


Not to say Goodbye

by Nymphaeus



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Codependency, Ghosts, Hallucinations, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, No Plot/Plotless, Open to Interpretation, POV Cloud Strife, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25996420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymphaeus/pseuds/Nymphaeus
Summary: Ghosts of the past linger when you’re the one holding onto them. Letting go is never easy.Cloud has nightly visions of Sephiroth and is not entirely sure if his experiences are only a figment of his imagination – or if it really matters in the end.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 10
Kudos: 56





	Not to say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a shorter, more experimental piece to get me back into Sefikura feels.  
> Thought I would share, because someone else might enjoy it.

Outside Cloud’s window a streetlamp flickered. It had been doing that for the past couple of nights. Someone needed to replace the light bulb. It would give out soon. Sitting in his bed, staring unfocused out the window, Cloud waited for the wave of nausea to subside that had washed over him after he had awoken from restless dreams.

There were no other sounds besides his own ragged breathing and the low whirring of the ventilation pipes which was drowned out by the bustle on the streets during the daylight hours and by night prevented the room from ever falling into complete silence. It offered no distraction now. It was only a constant backdrop of noise that Cloud, his senses heightened by the waves of dread and dizziness rolling over him, was too aware of to find comforting in its familiarity, its persistence, it’s unrelenting presence.

Sweat was forming on his skin, a single drop running down his temple, dangerously close of running into his eye. He blinked to keep it out. 

A figure at the end of his bed – flickering, vanishing – gone, before he could entirely grasp it, before his eyes could find purchase. He knew it well, even when it appeared to him as a hazy silhouette, a blur of black and silver. The room’s temperature had dropped. Cloud had seen him in other lonely nights before. He got used to the visions, rarely more than an apparition in the corner of his eyes and gone when he turned to get a proper look. Sometimes, when the night was especially dark, he would appear standing – watching – motionless in the corner of his room. 

Cloud’s fingers grabbed at his bedsheets, struggling with the urge to throw them off or to throw them over his head. Unable to move, as if paralyzed, he did nothing, only able to clutch the linen tighter between twitching fingers, grasping so tightly it threatened to tear the fabric. 

Sometimes the spectre would attempt to speak to him. Most nights he could hear nothing but static noise, distorted and discordant, slowly rising in intensity and volume to the point it rang so loud in his ears that Cloud feared it would blow out his eardrums. The noise would reach its painful crescendo, followed by deafening silence until the steady whirring of the ventilation was returning. Other nights that familiar deep voice would whisper vile and sweet into his ears, leaving Cloud feeling sick and empty. 

And then there were the touches – always either scalding or freezing and Cloud could never anticipate which it was going to be. Sometimes it would hurt. Sometimes it didn’t and Cloud wished that it would. Touching meant that he was almost real, at least, that was what Cloud tried to rationalize, but he could never be quite sure. So, maybe he was only imagining the dip of the mattress, the weight of another person sitting down behind him. If he tried to concentrate, he could almost believe feeling the pressure of someone else’s back leaning against his own. 

“Don’t turn around.” 

A shiver ran down Clouds spine.

There was no need to look and Cloud wouldn’t have dared – couldn’t – too afraid of what he might see. Perhaps scared to not see anything at all and having to confront the apprehension that his ghostly visitor was nothing but a figment of his own imagination, the product of a mind unable let go. 

“Did you miss me, Cloud?”

Nothing compared to the way his own name sounded coming from Sephiroth’s lips. No one else called his name quite like him. It pierced the not-quite silence even when Cloud couldn’t be sure if it had been spoken aloud in the first place. That voice alone was enough to draw on his very essence, as it seeped into him, taking hold and pulling, demanding his sole attention until there was really nothing else left on Cloud’s mind. Oh, how he wished for noise to drown it out. 

“I shouldn’t miss you,” Cloud felt the sudden urge to hug his knees close to his chest, so he did. 

“And yet you do? That does make me happy to hear.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Defiance was his mode of operation, as long as he could keep it up, that was and his words lacked any bite he wanted them to have.

“I have missed you, Cloud. Very dearly.”

“You’re not even really here,” Cloud said. 

Outside the window the dim orange light of the streetlamps flickered. 

“No. I am not.” 

Then, maybe, Cloud really was just imagining the shifting of a body against his, the warmth against his back in stark contrast to the coldness of the room. A thought as comforting as it was unsettling. After all, it felt real. Cloud wanted it to be real and that was what disturbed him most of all. He tried not to think too hard about it. That would just ruin everything. 

“Why won’t you leave me alone?” Cloud asked. 

“Why indeed? I have been wondering myself,” Sephiroth’s voice wavered, contemplating. “Why you? What is it about you? You were insignificant, unimportant, a nobody.” He laughed, but it rang joyless and hollow. “You are nothing.” 

Ah. Sephiroth was trying to hurt him. At some point he might have. Now it barely so much as stung. Especially, since Cloud was only half convinced, he wasn’t just experiencing hallucinations conjured up by his own subconscious. He was undecided on which option he preferred. If Cloud wasn’t hallucinating, if there was a part of Sephiroth still lingering within him, then – 

“If I am nothing – “ 

“You are nothing!” There was something desperate in Sephiroth’s anger. Something Cloud knew too well and that he could in a strange way relate to, even when he would have given everything not to. “I can’t leave you, Cloud. I can’t let you go. I need you. And you need me.” 

Sephiroth had woven himself into every fibre of Cloud’s being. The threads too tangled to ever be separated. Not without causing severe damage to either. Really, Sephiroth only had himself to blame. Cloud wanted to scream, but instead only rubbed at his temples in frustration. 

“Keep telling yourself that. I just want to forget you,” he said, releasing his hold on his knees, leaning back. Soft strands of long hair were tickling his bare shoulders. 

Maybe one day he would forget. Maybe the day would come when he no longer would remember sharp features – too beautiful to be entirely human – or the lingering touch of a hand against his shoulder, or the deep voice that would echo through his body, shaking him to his core. Cloud had doubts, but Cloud could hope that one day he would find the courage to let go, to let himself forget.

“I know you do.” 

A flickering disturbance in his vision – and the image of the room was replaced by striking green, catching Cloud’s eyes, holding his gaze captive. 

“Close your eyes.” 

Cloud complied, his eyes fluttering shut despite the urge to fight it and keep them open, wanting to see the man in front of him. Just to confirm that he was here.

The warm breeze of a single breath ghosted over his skin and then Cloud felt the soft touch of lips against his. He didn’t dare move, lost in the sensation for but a heartbeat, while his own heart felt as if it had stopped entirely. Sephiroth leaned in closer, deepening their kiss, applying steady pressure. Cloud was shaking, the air uncomfortably cool against his sweaty skin, his lips quivering where they were connected to Sephiroth’s. 

When Cloud had freed himself from his stupor and started kissing back, Sephiroth sighed against his mouth and that alone was almost too much. Cloud’s heartstrings were strung so tight, so close to tearing. Their lips moved against each other and Cloud wanted to reach out, to touch, to feel more of him – to feel all of him. He didn’t dare, afraid his hands would grasp at nothing, so he kept them fiercely clutched to his side. His head was swimming, directionless in the darkness, entirely lost in the sensation and the sparks that had been set off all over his body. Sephiroth’s teeth were teasing his bottom lip, biting down just hard enough to sting. Cloud hissed and he could feel Sephiroth smile, before he was pressing small kisses of mock apology onto the spot. 

If he tried – if he put his hands on Sephiroth would he simply vanish? Kissing him felt real. Everything about this felt real. He could taste Sephiroth on his tongue. 

“Touch me?” He whispered in between kisses, lips close enough to move against Sephiroth’s as he spoke. Immediately a hand carefully brushed a strand of hair out of his face, before resting against his cheek, thumb stroking under his eye, the gesture unexpectedly tender. A sob threatened to escape his lips, but then Sephiroth was kissing him again, open-mouthed and needy and Cloud could do nothing but to respond in kind. He didn’t know what he would rather suffer, the presence of the man kissing him so desperately or his absence. 

Cloud was out of breath and lightheaded, yet air was the last of his concerns, too afraid to pull away. He could not risk losing whatever this was, so he kissed Sephiroth deeper. 

A hand laid flat against his chest, right over his heart which was beating and aching and ready to burst and for a second Cloud wanted nothing more but for Sephiroth to reach into his ribcage and rip it right out. It didn’t happen. Sephiroth was merely pushing him down and Cloud let himself be guided until his head hit the pillow. He had lost any sense of direction. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the weight of Sephiroth on top of him and the movement of his mouth, when he claimed his lips again. How damaged would his mind still have to be to make something like this up? Although, Cloud would not pretend, that he wasn’t. 

“I need to see you, or touch you, or anything at all,” Cloud was rambling, his voice shaky. 

“See, then.” Cloud found spiteful delight in the fact, that Sephiroth sounded just as effected. 

He opened his eyes slowly. It took a second for his vision to shift into focus, but then – there he was. Cloud could see him clearly, not merely a vague impression of the man. Sephiroth looked as Cloud remembered him. How could he ever forget? Sephiroth was leaning over him, braced on one arm, half-lidded eyes staring intensely at Cloud’s face, the unnatural glow of his eyes shining through long eyelashes, silver hair falling over his shoulders and delicately pooling on Cloud’s pillow. 

“You’re real.” 

“Barely.” 

Cloud didn’t care. He needed to touch him, needed all the reassurance he could get. He reached for the back of Sephiroth’s head, threading his fingers in the hair near the base of his skull. Sephiroth didn’t stop him. He could have – easily. Cloud wasn’t gentle when he pulled him in for a kiss that was much less tame then all the previous ones had been, Sephiroth’s earlier teasing included. He tightened his grip on Sephiroth’s hair. Cloud didn’t care if it hurt. He hoped it would. 

The pain drew a moan from Sephiroth, low and breathless, the sound vibrating all through Cloud’s body and when he licked into his mouth Cloud let him, equally eager to taste more. 

Their kiss grew feverish and Cloud was restless, his whole body alight with sparks. Cloud shivered and he needed to hold onto something and Sephiroth was right there and so he threw his other arm around Sephiroth’s shoulders – holding onto his presence – with his fingers still buried in his hair, unwilling to let go. Deep inside his mind, he knew he needed to stop. He would never be able to let go. Sephiroth’s hand found its way back to Cloud’s chest, stroking upwards and tracing his collar bone. Cloud couldn’t even tell anymore whether he was moaning or sobbing. How was it possible that he needed Sephiroth so much, when all he actually needed was to forget him once and for all? 

This needed to end. So, he hugged Sephiroth tighter, because what else would he have left once he was gone? Nothing but a cold room and the deepest pits of loneliness and a mind clinging to ghosts and fading visions of the past.

Cloud was not the only one who was trapped. They both were. Cloud needed no further proof of that, but the way Sephiroth responded, the demanding manner of his touches, his kisses. If Cloud ever did forget, then he would really be gone. Sephiroth couldn’t leave him, he was bound. But neither could he let Cloud untie the knots or cut the threads. He would slip into oblivion and disappear – possibly forever – as it should be.

Cloud let Sephiroth’s hair slip through his fingers, caressing his back instead, taking in the outline of his shoulder blades, his spine. Sephiroth’s muscles twitched beneath his fingertips. Every fibre of his being was torn apart trying to reconcile the need to stop and the want to lose himself in Sephiroth and dissolve and vanish and – maybe – then they would finally find peace. When there was nothing left of them both. 

But there could be no peace for either of their restless souls. Not, when Sephiroth had his hand over his neck, applying the faintest pressure, not enough to take Cloud’s breath away, just enough to show that he could. And not when Cloud was shivering and wanting under his touch. This had to end. No matter what Cloud wanted. He had to let go.

Cloud pressed a last kiss against Sephiroth’s lips, close-mouthed and gentle and finally forced himself to pull away. At first, Sephiroth tried to follow, but then he seemed to understand and Sephiroth’s weight shifted off of Cloud. Cloud instantly wanted it back. Sephiroth was studying him intently, shallow breaths shaking his body. Cloud didn’t dare look too closely at his face. He would pretend Sephiroth was unreadable, otherwise he might have had to admit to any emotion he would have found reflected on his features. And that would just make this even harder and so Cloud focused only on the deep pools of his eyes. He could dive right in and if he was lucky, he would drown.

“I’m going to miss you,” Cloud breathed, and it took all the willpower he had not to reach out again.

Sephiroth’s hand came to rest over his eyes, blinding him, and when Cloud tried to protest, he laid a finger over his lips as well. 

“I’m not even here. Remember?”

Don’t leave. He wanted to plead, but the words caught in his throat, choking him. Cloud couldn’t let go and he couldn’t forget, no matter how much he wanted to.

Sephiroth’s index finger stroked over his bottom lip a final time, before it lifted, leaving nothing behind but emptiness and a lingering memory, the after-image of a touch.

“Goodbye, Cloud.”

Cloud blinked – and there was nothing there. A streetlight flared up, flickered and died.

“Goodbye,” he said into the empty room. Cloud was alone. 

As alone as he could ever be, with a mind that was haunted.

**Author's Note:**

> "Sephiroth lives in Cloud's brain rent free" the fic, but make it vaguely angsty.
> 
> At least writing this did succeed in really getting me into Sefikura again, which is good, since I have a longfic planned for them as my Big FEAR 2020 project. (I've already started on it and I'm pretty excited!!)
> 
> Feel free to leave feedback, comments or kudos. <3
> 
> And maybe, come and talk to me over on Twitter: @FL3ANC3


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